


Spin Cycle

by kelios



Series: Sand and Sea [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform, it's what Jensen would want, laundromat fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 05:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20303947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelios/pseuds/kelios
Summary: Sam and Dean need to do a little laundry after their trip to the beach.





	Spin Cycle

“I’ve got sand where sand was never meant to be, Sam,” Dean grumbles, shooting Sam a _look_ over his shoulder. “And I blame _you_.” 

Sam just smiles sweetly, wandering over to where Dean is trying to figure out the instructions on the ancient washing machine in front of him. “What was that, Dean? It almost sounded like “Oh God, Sam fuck me, fuck me right here on the beach where anyone can see us--” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean tries to shrug Sam off but Sam ignores him, settles warm and firm against his back. “I didn’t say it wasn’t good--”

“Amazing,” Sam corrects, lips hot on Dean’s ear as he presses him against the cool metal. His dick rubs hot and hard against Dean’s ass, heat bleeding through the thin material of his boxers, delicious contrast. “Possibly life changing, if I’m not mistaken.” 

Dean doesn’t say anything, can’t make his brain form words with Sam so close and touching every inch of him. He just tilts his head back against Sam’s broad shoulder instead, baring his throat to Sam’s mouth. Sam groans, deep harsh rumble through them both where they’re connected, chest to chest, then fumbles with the controls on the washer. He hits the right combination as much by luck as anything else, his attention completely focused on the mark he’s sucking into the thin skin of Dean’s throat. 

“Think anyone will find us here?” Sam whispers, shoving the back of Dean’s boxers down one handed. Sam’s already bare, the wet head of his cock nudging between Dean’s thighs and making Dean’s knees weak. “Think anyone’s gonna come in and see you come on my cock and the spin cycle?”

“Sam--please--”

Sam smiles against Dean’s skin, lips curving over Dean’s pulse. Dean can feel him, every point of contact, every place where his brother’s bare skin touches his, but it’s not enough. Dean needs Sam inside him, filling him, melting into him. Needs to feel their souls touching, though he hopes to God he never actually says that out loud. 

“Shh,” Sam says softly, and Dean realizes those low, desperate sounds are coming from _him_. “Easy, Dean, I’ve got you. Gonna take care of you, big brother, just gotta let me, just gotta let me in, I’ve got you--”

And he does. Dean knows he does, another thing he’ll never admit. He loves this, loves when Sam covers him, holds him down, lets him relax and just _feel_. Sam kicks Dean’s feet apart as far as they can go with his boxers still trapped around his thighs, but makes no effort to push the offending cloth away. _Trapped,_ Dean thinks as Sam pushes into him, slow and steady, both of his hands locked over Dean’s and pressing them flat against the warm, vibrating metal in front of him and it should be terrifying but not when it’s Sam. Never when it’s Sam.

“So good for me, Dean.” Dean loves the ragged, broken, almost worshipful sound of Sam’s voice when they’re like this, loves knowing that it’s all for him--all of Sam’s love, all of his devotion. Focused, unwavering, _Dean’s_. He pushes back into Sam’s shallow thrusts, the scrape and drag of Sam’s cock over his insides just the right side of pain and pleasure, and Sam growls at him. Shoves him back against the washer and keeps him there, completely given over. Warm pressure on his dick, like magic fingers but better, Sam holding him down and making Dean take whatever he wants to give. Sam grinds into him, barely pulling out, hips and thighs flexing against Dean’s ass as he finds that electric spot inside him. 

“Gonna fuck you now,” Sam whispers, breath hot damp against Dean’s skin as he slides through the mess still inside him, and Dean can’t do anything but let him, still trapped, bent over the washer now with Sam’s hand between his shoulders and fuck. _Fuck_. Dean can’t move, can’t do anything but let the pleasure build, Sam’s soul and his coming together until there’s nothing left in the world. 

Dean comes back to Sam still inside him, still moving with lazy, shallow thrusts as he licks over the bruise that already aches deep under Dean’s skin. Sam bites down, gentle with an edge of teeth and Dean clenches around him, perfect edge of pain with the pleasure Sam’s still dragging out of him. Sam does it again, teeth sinking into Dean’s skin just as his cock skates over Dean’s sweet spot and _Jesus_. Dean’s not sure he’s going to survive three more days of this but he _loves_ it, loves Sam taking what he wants, loves giving Sam what he needs, loves the feel of being split open and put back together again by the only person he trusts to do either. 

Sam finally stops, lips and teeth turned gentle against Dean’s skin as they both come down, return to themselves. Dean stands up, his back giving the same twinging protest that Sam does when he slips free of Dean’s body and reluctantly lets him go. 

“Guess we can check that one off the list,” Dean jokes, stepping carefully over to the hard plastic chairs. Sam doesn’t move to help, watching him with a hot possessiveness that never fails to make something inside Dean preen with self satisfaction even as he winces. 

“Again, you mean,” Sam says, his eye roll betrayed by a quick flash of dimple. “We only get to check them off once, and I’ve fucked you or sucked you off in practically every laundromat in the continental United States.”

“But we’re not _in_ the continental United States, Sammy.” Dean grins, turning it into a yawn. “What do you say we finish this up later? I could use a hot shower, a cold beer, and a long nap, not necessarily in that order.” 

Sam tosses Dean his boxers and returns his grin. “I say why not? That’s what vacation is for.”


End file.
